Cataclysm
by uriekuki
Summary: so let's dance like two shadows, burning out a glory day
1. Chapter One

**Cataclysm  
Chapter One**

There is a story told amongst two Clans thought to be extinct, a story about a time drenched in darkness and death, a story about a lost soul and the damage they did. To the young it sounds like just that, a story, filled with supernatural villains, star-crossed lovers, and impossible sacrifices. But to the old it is _fact_. A portion of their land remains dead as a testament to this, a barren stretch of grass where life refuses to settle. In the middle of this barren land is a tree, curled and wicked and gnarled.

It is said, on days when the wind is vicious and the sky angry, that a shadow can be seen dangling from a branch, swinging in the air; a Shadowstalker's ghost.

He was born as Black-kit, son to Falconheart and Lionstar, a prodigy from the moment he gasped his first, tiny breath. Or rather, that's what would have happened if he had been born first. Instead Goldenkit, now Goldenpaw, got that honour; the shining title of Future Greatness. Blackpaw was second born, stuck in between his two sisters, a bundle of shiny black fur that left his parents confused. But they left the oddity of his pelt alone, content with their offspring.

He was born normal, on the outside, and for some moons on the inside as well. A normal kit with a normal life. He would grow, train, earn his place in LightClan, perhaps take his own mate one day, then retire when his bones creaked too much. Just like his parents, and their parents, and an entire bloodline before him. He would remain normal - his place in the world was to be mundane, it was not to be magnificent.

But a darkness curling in his veins said otherwise.

* * *

 _\- Are you coming to the tree? They strung up a man they say who murdered three -_

* * *

"Go and put what we just learned into practice," Snowstep said with a flick of his tail. Dust from the training pit still clung to the white of his coat. At his side Goldenpaw and Lilypaw's mentors, Rainswipe and Swiftwing, nodded encouragingly.

Blackpaw bounced on his paws, excitement thrumming in his body. An apprentice for two moons the idea of running free through the forest still thrilled him. No doubt his sisters would turn their hunting exercise into a competition but he didn't mind. The Clan expected him to do his best, nothing more. As long as he caught something his mentor would be pleased.

"We'd like you to use everything we've taught you these past moons. Every hunting and stalking technique," Swiftwing told them. "Catch a bird each, that's your goal. If you're struggling don't worry about it and go after something you know you can catch, but do try for a bird. Understand?"

"Yes!" Goldenpaw chirped, "we won't let you down!"

Rainswipe smiled at his apprentice, "you could never let us down. Just do your best; good luck."

They disappeared into LightClan's forest; an airy place filled with sunshine and vibrant green. It dipped over hills and ditches, weaved through rivers and streams, then came to an abrupt end pressed up against the coldness of DarkClan's rigid pine trees. If one was to follow the border beyond the Shaded Creek and over Owl Crest both forests tapered out into a broad meadow: no cats land, the beginning of the Unknown.

Back then it had no name. Now it is merely called the Shadow.

Blackpaw had overhead Dewpatch telling Windrose that a family of pigeons were nesting in the Old Willow, so that's where he headed. The forest spoke to him in the whistles and flutters of birds high above, in the rustle and squeak of mice down below. A content feeling settled in his bones; he would pass this test, he would catch a bird and make Snowstep proud. He did not notice the way the shadow he cast rippled, nor did he notice the darkness clustered under bushes shuffling closer.

Every now and then his pricked ears would catch the sound of someone else padding through the forest after him - Snowstep, no doubt, assessing his apprentice. The Old Willow ruptured out of the tree line like an ugly wound, gnarled branches gnashing holes in the canopy. Blackpaw thought it was a charming tree, one with its own personality. He liked how it stood out, and stood strong despite its age. Sometimes he hoped he would be that strong when he was old too.

Quietly, pressed low to the ground, he crept round the huge tree eyes searching for a flash of gray, ears twitching back and forth hoping to catch the beat of wings. _There._ Tucked into a fork of a thick branch, a bundle of sticks and other junk. He grinned at the sight of a fat pigeon resting in the nest, head resting on its breast, eyes firmly closed. Then his grin wavered. If the pigeon was asleep in the tree he would have to climb up it to get it.

Resolve strengthened his courage. He _would_ get that bird. A moons worth of training would not go to waste all because of a little climb.

Old bark crumbled under his claws and the further the ground got the shakier his grip became. Thankfully the branch he needed was within reach. Unfortunately, his scrabbling had woken the sleeping pigeon. It blinked at him. He blinked at it. The branch swayed beneath them both. Blackpaw made a split second decision that he would most likely regret in the coming moments: he pounced. His outstretched claws ripped through the pigeon's wings as it leapt into the air, only to haphazardly glide to the forest floor, one wing in tatters. The branch snapped under his sudden weight and he crashed into the leaves next to the bird.

Luckily the fall was short enough to only smack the air from his lungs. Still, he stayed curled up on his side wheezing and gasping for a while. Already he could feel a mighty bruise blooming where he'd hit the ground. When the spots in his vision dissipated and the air had returned to his lungs, he rolled to his paws, sitting up with a groan. The sight he opened his eyes too nearly knocked the air from him again.

An inky black... _thing_ had the panicked pigeon by the throat, wrapped around it like a snake. He watched, shocked, as it shifted slightly and snapped the bird's neck. The crack was muffled but Blackpaw felt it, as if a shockwave had rippled up his legs and into his spine.

" _Accept it_."

It shifted through the leaves, sidled past his ear like it was nothing more than the breeze. But Blackpaw knew better. He knew the wind could not speak, not with words he could actually understand. The thing slithered toward him; he felt it then, in that moment when his heartbeat slowed and he reached out with a paw to touch it, he felt a _connection_ and a _belonging._ He thought about it crawling up his leg. It did. He thought about it draping itself around his shoulders. It did.

" _Good._ "

"What are you?" he whispered, skin tingling as it slipped through his fur.

The branches overhead creaked. " _Yours."_

Nearby the undergrowth rustled and the Snowstep's scent caught Blackpaw's nose. His heart thudded; anxiety flooded his veins. Did this count as cheating? He didn't even really catch the bird...it would have escaped while he was still curled up in pain. The thing darted off his shoulder and disappeared under a clump of flowers, melting into the shadows underneath it. _A shadow...is that what it was?_

"Good job, Blackpaw!" Snowstep exclaimed as he clambered over the Old Willow's roots. "You've done very well."

A little guilt tainted Blackpaw's joy, but he puffed out his chest and took the praise anyway. What could he say? Snowstep wouldn't believe him. He'd think he was crazy! So he bit his tongue and let his mentor praise him. It felt good, usually it was only his sisters that received such praise. No wonder they tried so hard all the time.

"Come on," Snowstep said, "let's get back to camp so you can show the others your catch."

Blackpaw purred, tail curving happily. But at the back of his mind lurked a reminder of what he'd just seen: a shadow finishing off his kill for him, and then responding to his thoughts. Shifting his head he peered back at the clump of flowers. The darkness stared back at him, not shifting with the wind like the flowers were, not moving like a normal shadow, but rather watching him as he walked away.

As he'd expected Goldenpaw and Lilypaw exceeded expectations; Lilypaw had a starling in her mouth while Goldenpaw had a robin and a crow. They grinned at him when they spotted him, waving their tails excitedly. "We all passed!" Lilypaw purred.

"Well look at this." Lionstar stood over them, golden coat bright in the sun, smiling warmly. "Such a big haul from our apprentices. I'm sure Sunstreak and Firestorm would appreciate the robin and the crow. Why don't you take it to them, Goldenpaw?"

Goldenpaw nodded her head and beamed up at Lionstar. "Of course, mother."

"You can take your starling to the elders, Lilypaw."

They remained silent until Lilypaw had slipped into the hollow log of the elders den. "Snowstep said he's very proud of you," Lionstar began, "that you're training is coming along very well. I'm glad to hear that."

"I just want to be a good warrior," Blackpaw shrugged.

"You will be, and so will your sisters. You'll do LightClan proud," she replied. "The blood that runs in your veins is pure Clan, pure warrior; you were _born_ for this. But you don't need to push yourself to do great things. Your best is all we ever ask for."

Lionstar licked the top of his head and he purred loudly. "Did you and father ever struggle with your training?" he asked.

"Not really, we were always trying to be better than the other. We were very competitive when we were apprentices," she laughed. "Speaking of your father, he's due back from a border patrol and I need to speak with him. You can go, Blackpaw."

He wanted, desperately, to tell someone what he had seen, what he had _felt_. But something tugged at him each time he opened his mouth; an unsettling feeling of dread that soured his stomach. At the same time an itch was brewing - not one he could scratch no matter how hard he tried. It seemed to be covering his entire body, an irritation that would not let up. Like eyes, watching, waiting.

For days he felt it. For days he searched every pocket of darkness and every time something was staring back. Was it normal to feel unaffected by it? Shouldn't he be terrified of the shadows that followed him as if they were his own? No fear, no dread, only a sense of curiosity and... _understanding._ Blackpaw liked to think StarClan had given him something, a gift, to use for the good of LightClan.

During hunts and moments he could steal away in the forest by himself, Blackpaw would practice. He learned, slowly, that they answered to his every thought. They would play with him if he asked, chase him through the forest like a game of tag. They'd hunt for him, but he hated asking for that because it seemed like cheating. They were his and it didn't feel wrong.

Time passed like that, with Blackpaw tentatively growing confidence in his strange ability. No one suspected anything and so he told no one. It wasn't affecting who he was or how he trained, and he wasn't slacking on his duties as an apprentice either. In fact, he worked twice as hard. Perhaps one day, when he was a respected warrior, he'd be able to show the Clan this power and explain to them that he had been using it to protect them for moons. Life with the shadows became normal….until _she_ appeared.

His dreams that night were not ones of chasing mice or being a hero, instead he found himself in a meadow, stark green against a night sky blossoming with stars. A heavy moon sat on the horizon moving neither up or down. Through the grass played a light breeze. Blackpaw admired it with wonder, eyes roving over anything and everything. His shadows wrapped up his leg.

"Is it safe?" he whispered.

They nodded.

"So close already." They floated just above the grass, a mass of dark shadows that twisted and curled in the air. Blazing orange eyes blinked at him, slowly. Their smile was dangerously sharp. Carefully, like he was a frightened kit that might spook, they drifted closer. "Like old friends reunited."

Blackpaw eyed their sharp grin warily. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"I am a friend, and here is wherever you want it to be," they spoke, and their voice was honey smooth. He wanted to listen to them forever, wanted to hear every story he'd ever heard retold. "Your name is Blackpaw, isn't it?"

"Yes! How did you know? Are you from StarClan?" he rambled.

They cocked their head, "yes."

"Does that mean this shadow power thing is a gift from StarClan?" His tail curled excitedly, eyes wide and bright.

"Of course, where else would it be from?" they replied. "I'm here to help you learn how to use it. Provided you _want_ to learn."

Blackpaw nodded and the shadow curled up on his shoulder wriggled to match his excitement. "I want to learn! It'll be useful to help my Clan in the future when I'm a warrior."

"Tell me about your Clan," they murmured, "about your family."

A butterfly fluttered by his head and his eyes left his friend to follow it. "Well my sisters Lilypaw and Goldenpaw are super good at everything, they're amazing. I heard Robinleap - he's the deputy - say one of them might even end up leading the Clan one day." He sat back on his haunches to bat at the yellow butterfly. "Falconheart, our father, is a really good warrior. Everyone respects him, plus he chased off some rogues before we were born that were threatening the Clan, so he's really cool."

"And your mother?"

Blackpaw smiled, "she's the Clan leader. Her name's Lionstar, and she's got nine lives but you're a StarClan cat so you already know that."

The creature shifted, shadows flaring out in the air, "I did, yes. Do you feel the need to prove yourself because your mother is the leader?"

"Not really. They only expect me to do my best," he replied.

"Well, that's good." He couldn't really call their smile a smile, it was far too toothy for that, but he supposed it was good enough. "Say, Blackpaw, would you like to know why you're here? In StarClan?"

Anticipation bubbled inside him. "It's because of this power isn't it?" he purred, and the shadow on his shoulder lurched forward suddenly and crushed the butterfly. Carefully it slid the crushed remains onto the ground by his paws. Blackpaw sighed, "that was rude. I was playing with it. Naughty shadow." As if it was a scolded kit the shadow drooped.

"It certainly is. You're special, Blackpaw, and you're going to do _so much_ ," they said with reverence. "But we don't have the time to begin tonight." At Blackpaw's pout, they added, "we have plenty of time for you to learn about your power, about who you are. However, I'll tell you one thing, as long as you promise not to tell _anyone_ about it. This must be our secret, okay?"

The dream was fraying at the edges. At one end of the meadow the trees were tumbling and falling away, crashing into one another but not making a single sound; the moon was melting into the horizon while each star blinked out of existence. He could feel the ground trembling under his paws, could see the meadow crumbling. Just as the grass and dirt gave way beneath him his strange friend grinned.

"You're a Shadowstalker."

* * *

 _an: this is a sidestory to the Game of Blood series, but it can be read as a standalone if you wish - no context from that series is truly needed to understand this story._


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

"Distracted, Blackpaw?" In the mid-morning light Falconheart looked very soft. A patrol was coming back mouths ladened with prey, pelts damp with dew. On the other side of camp outside the queens den - fashion from a cluster of ferns tucked under an arching tree root - Sunstreak watched her kits play with Dewpatch. Streamkit bit his ear and he let out an exaggerated cry of pain. At the same time a shadow flitted over Sunstreak's flank, then vanished when she looked down.

Blackpaw blinked. "Sorry, what?"

"I'll take that as a yes," Falconheart snorted, then sat down beside his son. The difference in their appearances was quite large; the warrior was stocky, pelt smoky gray and striped with black, while the apprentice was slim, fur so dark he himself often looked like a patch of shadow. "What are you thinking about?"

He shrugged, still not entirely listening, "stuff."

"Must be very important to keep you so occupied." The shadow crept passed Sunstreak darting across the grass to hide in Dewpatch's silhouette. He could _feel_ it moving, somehow, somewhere in his mind. It wasn't a feeling he could even begin to describe but it was one he was beginning to crave.

His shadow friend told him that was to be expected; the rush of power from wielding something so incredible. They'd taught him a lot in the last ten nights, and it was _amazing_. There was so much he could do with it. LightClan would never be in danger again for as long as he lived. He hoped he'd be able to tell them about his power one day - if not the whole Clan, maybe just his family. But he'd promised his shadow friend he'd keep it a secret and a good warrior didn't break promises.

"Just thinking about being a warrior," Blackpaw finally replied.

Falconheart paused his grooming to cast an eye over his son. "Are you worrying about it?" he asked.

"Not really. I'm more excited than I am worried. It just seems so far away," he said quietly.

"It always does. I remember being your age and wanting nothing more than to be a warrior, but it takes time to learn everything. Trust me the time it takes is worth it." Falconheart leaned over to press his head against Blackpaw's. "How about I talk your mother into letting you go to the gathering tonight? Might help you take your mind off of all your young worries."

A rumbly purr started up in Blackpaw's chest, "yes please!"

"Okay. Go make yourself useful and see if the elders need anything. Perhaps if you're lucky Coldflower might be in the mood to tell you a story. You can learn a lot from the past, you know?" The senior warrior shifted to his paws, heading in the direction of the returning dawn patrol.

Briefly Blackpaw returned his attention to the shadow still lurking around Dewpatch, moving to blend in with the shadow he cast. With a flick of his eyes he sent it scurrying back to its place amongst the tree roots. Then he set about his duties as an apprentice.

Hours later he wandered out of the elders den with a full belly, a buzzing mind, and paws that smelled of mouse bile. Coldflower always did tell the best stories, ones of bloody wars between the founding members of LightClan and DarkClan. It was strange to hear them and then look at what had become of the Clans today, a strong peace that was difficult to sway. Yet the idea of savage battles to conquer and keep land sounded so...heroic.

"Blackpaw!" Trotting over from High Hill was a smooth-coated red tom. The white patch on his chest shone brightly in the sun, kept perfectly clean. Blackpaw dipped his head in respect to his deputy. "There you are; been looking after the elders all day?"

"Yes, Robinleap. They have new nests, prey, water, and I got rid of their ticks."

Robinleap smiled, "thank you! Such a good apprentice. I wanted to let you know that Lionstar has picked you to come to the gathering tonight, so make sure you're ready to leave just after nightfall."

His tail curled happily. "Okay!" Blackpaw chirped, "I'll be ready!"

There was little time left until nightfall, the sun was already pitching beneath the trees throwing out rays of soft red and orange. So he grabbed a mouse from the fresh-kill pile and made himself comfortable in the shadow of High Hill. Halfway through his mouse Snowstep found him, still limping a little from the paw he'd sprained yesterday.

"Sorry we couldn't train today," Snowstep said. "Ivyfrost reckons I'll be able to get back to normal duties tomorrow." Sheepishly he added, "she also mentioned that I should perhaps watch where I'm walking next time."

Blackpaw giggled, "it was a pretty big stick you fell over."

"In my defence I wasn't paying attention to the ground."

"No, you were too busy looking at Ripplespark!"

Snowstep, in a flurry of awkward movement, leaned over and smacked his paw against Blackpaw's mouth. "Sssh! I was not!" he exclaimed. Glancing around to make sure nobody else was in hearing range he then said, "did she laugh when I fell over?"

"Yes."

He groaned. "StarClan have cursed me."

At that moment Ripplespark trotted by on her way to the group assembling by the camp exit. Blackpaw opened his mouth and shouted out a greeting to her. Her trot slowed, head turning towards them, smile wide and eyes bright. "Hello!" she purred, blue-gray tail flicked up high, "is your paw feeling better, Snowstep?"

From Snowstep came a quiet, little squeak. "Yes!" he croaked out. "Much better! Should be all healed tomorrow!"

"Glad to hear that, seeing you moping around camp just isn't normal," Ripplespark teased. Lionstar's voice interrupted their conversation, calling all those attending the gathering together. "You're coming right, Blackpaw? Mustn't keep your mother waiting. See you later, Snowstep!"

The white tom buried his face in his paws. "Why couldn't I have gotten father's romance ability? Look at Dewpatch, he swept Sunstreak off her paws in days!" A flash of his green eyes peeked out, squinting at his apprentice, "get out of here, you troublemaker. Go harass some other poor unfortunate soul."

Moonlight cradled LightClan's forest in its cool grasp. It bathed the travelling group of Clanners in ethereal white, bleaching their pelts. Sometimes, when Blackpaw was awake to see a full moon not covered in clouds, he wondered if this was what StarClan looked like; everything lit up by white from a beautiful moon, cats cast in unearthly light. Yet when they reached the border with DarkClan the moonlight did not dare stretch beyond the edge of the pines.

There were no stories of DarkClan's territory being cursed or haunted or evil, but now, looking into the darkness that seemed to move and coil around the trees, Blackpaw couldn't help but think of it as a place of evil. It called to him - the darkness; a heavy weight that pressed on his mind, demanding him to give them instructions, to _command_ them. He'd never felt anything quite like it. It was incredible.

"Good evening, Lionstar." The cat that emerged from the blackness was a behemoth of muscle and vicious scars. His brown tabby pelt was shaggy, and he blinked at the Clan before him with an eye that was yellow and an eye that was scarred and useless.

Lionstar dipped her head ever so slightly. "Evening, Fallenstar."

Now that Blackpaw was paying attention he could see behind Fallenstar were the faint silhouettes of other cats and the glint of their eyes. Slowly they too crept into the light after their leader. They were elegant and mysterious, but also just cats, like him and the rest of LightClan. Mostly dark-pelted too. Blackpaw glanced down sheepishly at his own coat of pure black. He hadn't really noticed how perhaps out of place he looked amongst LightClan's ranks last gathering he attended.

Fallenstar's face broke into a warm smile. "I am glad to see that you all look in good health," he said.

They had no Four Trees or island where they could come together comfortably, so each full moon both Clans met in the middle of their respective territories, on the border where light forest became dark pines. Moonlight streamed through the canopy and dappled the forest floor; a full moon, a pleased StarClan.

Robinleap trotted forward and bumped heads with a gray she-cat - DarkClan's deputy, Riverstrike. With that the two Clans began to mingle, elders grouping together to reminisce on the old days, warriors sharing tips on hunting and teaching apprentices.

"I remember you! You were here like two moons ago, except you didn't really say much and just hung around with a LightClan warrior," chirped a cheery voice.

Almost tripping over his own paws Blackpaw spun around to face a group of three DarkClan apprentices. He hadn't been brave enough to speak to any of them last time, so now he had no idea what their names were or if they were even nice. With ears flicked back he said, "hello."

The tom that had spoken watched him with bright amber eyes; moonlight shifted across his thick, ash gray fur. "You're Blackpaw, right? Goldenpaw and Lilypaw's brother?" he asked. Blackpaw nodded. "Oh, cool! I'm Shadepaw, and this is my brother Sootpaw, and our friend Owlpaw." With his tail he waved at the other two, another tom that looked identical to Shadepaw and a pale tabby she-cat.

"Did your sisters come tonight too?" Sootpaw said, voice deeper than what Blackpaw expected. Upon closer inspection there was only a slight difference between Shadepaw and Sootpaw: the former had a small patch of white on his chin.

"No, they had to stay back. Their mentors wanted to take them night hunting," Blackpaw explained.

The tabby, Owlpaw, tilted her head, "and your mentor didn't want to take you?"

"Oh! No! He sprained his paw and can't do any warrior duties till tomorrow," he replied quickly.

Shadepaw sighed. "That's a shame, night hunting is loads of fun. Though we mostly end up chasing each other rather than actual prey. Anyway! We asked Goldenpaw and Lilypaw the same question so we're going to ask you too. What's it like being a leader's kit?"

He opened his mouth to answer but hesitated. What was it truly like being the leader's kit? He didn't really know. Nobody treated him any different, not that he noticed any way. Snowstep certainly wasn't any less hard on him. Mother never pressured him, but then again he wasn't firstborn. Did Goldenpaw feel like she had the Clans expectations on her shoulders? "It doesn't really feel any different than being anyone elses kit. The Clan's not soft on me, but they don't push me beyond my limits because of it either."

"But don't you feel like you have to live up to your mother's reputation?" Owlpaw interrupted.

"I want to make her proud, but I know she'll be proud of me for just doing my best," he answered honestly.

Sootpaw twitched his whiskers. "She's the same as you; Owlpaw's father is Fallenstar."

Quickly, his eyes darted from Owlpaw to Fallenstar and back. There was hardly any resemblance between the two of them. Fallenstar looked more like a bear if anything. Noticing his searching gaze Owlpaw cleared her throat, "I look more like my mother."

"That's why Fallenstar's so soft with you," Shadepaw teased.

Owlpaw curled her lip at him. "He's not soft with me," she hissed. "He's harder on me than he is you two, why else would he have given me to Icethroat? I have a legacy to uphold, a bloodline to keep strong." Her gaze fell back to Blackpaw. "I suppose that is where we differ. You don't seem to care about the blood of leadership in your veins whereas I do."

Something else other than the blood of leaders stirred in his veins. A creature uncurled in his head, shadowy limbs brushing his mind. " _She's pretty,_ " it purred in a voice he immediately recognised. His shadow friend peered out of his eyes. " _Smart too._ "

 _Yeah, so?_

" _Perhaps you could learn a little about strength from someone like her._ "

 _I am strong._

" _Your_ power _is strong. If the vessel is weak it will be destroyed._ _But you will grow, I will ensure it._ "

Blackpaw had yet to question his shadow friend about what a Shadowstalker was, or rather they had yet to give him a straight answer. He asked and all they replied with was 'it is a great burden' or 'a grand destiny'. It sounded cool at least.

"We are prospering!" Fallenstar pulled Blackpaw from his thoughts with his gravelly voice. "DarkClan thrives, as does LightClan I am sure. Quailsong has moved into the nursery carrying Littletooth's kits. I eagerly await their arrival, each new generation is a blessing. However, we have caught traces of fox scent lingering on the border near Shaded Creek. I advise all warriors to keep an eye out for the owner of that stench."

Lionstar purred a thank you. "Our nursery too is rather busy. Sunstreak has given birth to two beautiful kits, Streamkit and Heatherkit. Their father is _immensely_ proud." A chuckle spread through the gathered cats, and Dewpatch ducked his head sheepishly. "The apprentices are progressing well through their training. LightClan's future generations look strong."

Slowly, and therefore unnoticed at first, gray clouds began to traipse across the sky. It was not until they began to stream across the moon that anyone paid attention. DarkClan's medicine cat Grayleaf gasped, "we have angered StarClan!"

"Angered StarClan?" Swiftwing scoffed, "we've done nothing but share news of kits. Is that supposed to mean StarClan doesn't want us having kits anymore?"

DarkClan's only elder, Talonscar, laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. Kits are our future, and they are StarClan's future as well."

"Then why have they covered the moon?!" Gorsewhisker cried, his LightClan pale coat stark against the group of DarkClanner's he sat with.

Fallenstar lashed his tail, shared a glance with Lionstar, then said, "regardless of the reason StarClan has decided this gathering shall end. We cannot argue with that. Till next full moon, LightClan." Like shadows zipping back to their cool, comfortable dwellings, the DarkClan warriors disappeared back into their forest of towering pines.

Before they followed their Clanmates, the apprentices gave Blackpaw one last look. Owlpaw hovered longer than the others, something glinting in her gaze. "Make your bloodline proud," she muttered. Then she too disappeared into the darkness.

"Come." Falconheart brushed his tail along Blackpaw's back. "Let's go home. Hopefully StarClan will let the medicine cats know what made them angry."

"Does that happen often?" he asked as LightClan made their way back towards camp.

From his other side Windrose shook her head. "Hardly. Before our Clans were at peace they would occasionally fight at gatherings. It got so bad that each full moon StarClan covered the sky in pitch black clouds so that not even the stars could be seen. Soon after that an agreement was made, and peace finally settled."

"Could be a warning for something coming," Robinleap offered from up head.

"Surely they would have told us directly before doing something as cryptic as covering the moon," Ivyfrost argued. "Half of our purpose as medicine cats is to be the connection between the living and the dead."

Lionstar shifted a branch of thorns off the worn down path to camp. "If it's important they'll speak with the medicine cats. Until that point I wouldn't let it eat away at you. _We_ know we did nothing wrong, and that's all that matters."

As the warriors spoke Blackpaw found himself perplexed by a scent that was slowly getting stronger with each step he took. His eyes darted around, catching the shadows undulating under his gaze. They whispered against his paws, sending an anxious feeling thrumming through his veins. His mouth ran dry. But the scent...he didn't know what it was. Hadn't come across it before.

"Falconheart," he said quietly. "Can you smell that?"

His father paused his talking to open his mouth and scent the air. What he caught made the fur along his spine bristle. "Lionstar!" he barked, "fox!"

The Clan paused briefly as each cat caught that foul scent of fox, and came to the realisation of where that scent was coming from. "It's coming from camp! Quick, we have to get back there!" Robinleap shouted.

He'd never seen his Clanmates move that quickly before. They dashed through the forest like an entire army nipped at their heels. It was a struggle to keep up, and it was only for the pure terror he felt through the shadows that propelled him to keep pace with his father. _A fox._ He was running towards a fox, something that wanted to tear him apart. Within his chest his heart thundered. Fear leaked into his scent. He'd never had to fight anything before.

" _Easy. Fear will kill you."_

The stench grew. It filled his nose and mouth, stuffed its way down his throat. He was choking on it by the time they erupted into camp to find blood spattered across the grass. But no sign of the fox. No sign of anything. The camp was empty.

"Careful," Lionstar murmured, "no one go off by themselves. Stick together. We do this as a unit."

Blackpaw supposed that would have worked well if the grass cocooning the nursery had not exploded in a flurry of red and white. A narrow muzzle snapped shut on empty air as Snowstep tumbled onto the shorter grass. The white of his fur was stained scarlet. He limped on his sore leg. But there was strength in his eyes, fueled by the promise he'd made moons ago. For his Clan he would give up his life.

As he watched Snowstep struggle to scramble away from that long-legged beast Blackpaw found himself rooted to the stop; fear had grown cruel limbs and gripped him by the paws, anchoring him to the blood spattered grass. Everything seemed to crawl by at a snail's pace. He saw everything. Heard everything. Felt everything.

Watched those that had been at the gathering launch themselves to the aid of their injured Clanmate. Watched the moonlight glint off their exposed claws, and the fox's gnashing teeth. Watched the eyes of the hidden blink in the darkness.

Heard the drip, drip of blood falling to the grass. Heard the sound of wet breaths passing into the air. Heard his own heartbeat stutter.

Felt a fear so poisonous he almost expected to die. Felt the anger of his Clanmates. Felt the coldness of Death only whispers away.

Watched and heard and felt that foul fox close its mouth around Snowstep's throat and let his lifeblood splash free. Scarlet against white against green. An emptiness already yawning in his heart. He could look no longer, couldn't bear to see that monster throw his mentor around. But his head wouldn't move, and he felt a dark presence by his side.

It unfurled like a blooming flower and pressed against his side. Firmly it held him in place, made him watch the blood pool. Tears soaked his muzzle. "Please," he whispered, " _please_."

" _Do not look away from the dead, Blackpaw. You let him face down his death alone, do not let him walk into death alone."_


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

" _Brother!"_ Dewpatch screamed. He slammed into the side of the fox, dislodging Snowstep's trembling body from its mouth. It screeched, an awful, ear-splitting sound, and turned on Dewpatch with a thundering growl. By that time Falconheart had come up to its other side, claws lashing out, splitting fur and skin.

With the arrival of more cats the fox decided it was outnumbered and outplayed. It kicked Falconheart away, shook Dewpatch off, then turned and ran into the grass. Its whimpers slowly faded into the night, the camp fell silent. A feeling of loss smothered the Clan, kept their mouths shut and their eyes wide. The harsh tang of blood filled their noses.

Slowly the hidden crept out of their hiding spots. Firestorm and Sunstreak shepherded the two kits between them, making sure that could not see the blood. Or the body. Their eyes were hollow and tired, terror had stripped everything from them - as had the knowledge that if that fox had come for those kits they would have laid down their own lives.

It was awful the silence that smothered them. But it freed fears restraints from Blackpaw's feet, let him move in a stilted, hobbling way across the grass to where his mentor lay. The blood he stepped in was warm. The body he rested his head on was cold. Something that was once whole within cracked open; a yawning chasm. " _Snowstep_ ," Blackpaw whispered, "Snowstep, come back."

His only answer was a final gust of breath.

"Is he gone?" It was asked quietly, softly, tentatively. But it wasn't Dewpatch, it was Coldflower. He'd never seen a mother face down the death of her own kit before. It was something he never wanted to see again. He nodded. And Coldflower let out a heartbreaking cry. They looked the same, mother and son, both white like the clouds on a sunny day. Both beautiful.

The strong scent of herbs wafted over them, dampening a smell Blackpaw knew was Death. Ivyfrost pushed her own face into the red-stained pelt of her brother. As a thin, reedy whine slipped from her throat Dewpatch put his paw on her shoulder. "He's with dad now," he said, voice rough. "They're together."

Dawn bloomed on a Clan sitting vigil. In the soft sunlight Lionstar sat up and let her creaking bones carry her to the top of High Hill. "When we left for the gathering the last thing we expected was to return to this, to a Clanmate about to lay down his life in protection of others. But it happened, and now we are left in the wake of that." Even her voice was raw, cracked. "Snowstep was a great warrior. He had a great heart, a kind heart. I debated naming him Snowheart, but he had a greater gift other than his heart. He was strong in his way, determined in his values. Some -" a small smile - "may have called that stubbornness." It broke through the grieving for a moment, and the Clan laughed. "Snowstep, though you were taken from us far too soon, may you find StarClan and may they welcome you warmly. You deserve nothing more than peace."

Atop Coldflower and Ashfoot's shoulders Snowstep was carried out of camp, to a tree heavy with pink blossoms. The two elders together dug a grave and then mother buried her son.

"I'm sorry," Falconheart said to Blackpaw once Snowstep's body had been taken away. "I'm sorry you had to see him die."

Blackpaw turned to hide himself in his father's fur. He felt...empty. "Why did he have to die?"

"I can't tell you why. Sometimes these things happen. Fate, and destiny. As a warrior...as a warrior these things become our life." Falconheart sighed. "It's not something I would expect you to understand just yet. Take your time to mourn him."

At that moment Rainswipe and Swiftwing burst into camp, Goldenpaw and Lilypaw close on their tails. They blanched at the sight of the blood slowly disappearing into the dirt. Then at the smell of fox, and Death.

"Where have you four been!?" Lionstar demanded. "Night hunting rarely takes _all_ night."

Swiftwing ducked his head apologetically, "sorry, we fell asleep. What...what happened?"

"There was a fox," Blackpaw answered before anyone else could. "It got into the camp while we were at the gathering. Snowstep fought it, by himself. It killed him."

A sharp intake of breath came from Rainswipe. "Where is…?"

"Buried," Lionstar replied. "If you would like to say goodbye, you know where he is."

Goldenpaw and Lilypaw brushed up against their brother, cushioning him between them. Their was pity heavy in their eyes. It sat uncomfortably in his stomach. But he embraced the warmth radiating off them, the comfort. He was weary right down to his bones. "You need to rest," Lilypaw murmured.

Their mother heard them, flicked her ears and said, "those that attended the gathering, go sleep. Those that were not, normal duties."

"What about the fox!?" Dewpatch demanded.

It was Robinleap that responded, exhaustion coating his tone with irritation. "That is a matter for later after we have all slept and eaten."

Dewpatch lashed his tail, "it needs to be chased down and killed!"

"I will not send exhausted warriors to hunt down a fox; I will not lose more warriors to that beast." Lionstar turned away, Falconheart on her heels.

It was very easy for Blackpaw to stumble into his nest, flanked by his sisters, and fall immediately asleep. He had hoped the world behind his eyelids would remain dark, that he would be able to simply sleep without interruption. But it was a feeble hope. There was a shadow friend that lay in wait for him each time he close his eyes.

The meadow was different this time. Above the sky was void of stars, pure black and ominous. Its moon, heavy and unmoving, was an ugly shade of yellow. It threw out a sickly light that choked the beauty from the landscape. A wrongness hung in the air. It made his fur bristle, his heart flutter. In the distance he watched a wind rip through the silhouette of trees.

"Yesterday went well." They appeared behind him, a flurry of dark and shadow. Those blazing amber eyes appeared more feline this time - narrowed to slits. "It has been a while since I have witnessed bloodshed."

"I don't want to talk about it," Blackpaw said quietly.

They laughed, a cruel noise. "Unfortunate, seeing as we're going to talk about it."

"Why!?" he cried, "why do we need to talk about it!?"

"Because," they said as they coiled up like a snake on the grass. He was almost expecting to see a forked tongue flicker out of that shadowy mouth. "Because you made a mistake. A fatal one."

An anger was bubbling under Blackpaw's skin. "What _mistake_ did I make?"

"You did nothing."

It hit him like a physical blow, because it was true and he knew it but he did not want to truly believe it. His mentor had fought and died while all he had done was watch, transfixed at the blood and the devastation.

"Though I suppose there was nothing you could have done," they mused.

"What?" He snapped his head up to stare at his shadow friend. The anger grew hotter.

They smiled - if one could even call it that - lazily and purred, "you're a weak, scared apprentice? What could you have done against a rampaging fox? Perhaps you could have acted as bait. The fox could have tossed you around while Snowstep crawled to freedom."

His anger swelled, crested like a wave, and he felt a power unlike anything else sweep violently through his veins. _What could you have done what could you have done what could you have done what could you have done?_ He had to let it out it was clawing at his insides demanding he release it, _screaming_ at him to explode. So he did. He exploded in roaring, righteous fury. Impenetrable darkness rocketed throughout the meadow.

He barely heard his shadow friend's pleased hiss as he screeched, " _I could have saved him!_ "

It felt like an age till he could pull all that power, all that shadow, back inside himself. When he did he gasped at what was left behind. Nothing. Blackpaw's shadowy rage had killed the meadow. It was nothing but ash, ash being stirred by a meandering breeze.

"Yes. With power like that," they uttered, still coiled on the grass somehow unaffected by the wave, "you could have. But even you cannot turn back Death."

"Then what can I do?" Blackpaw was winded. It felt like all that power streaming out of him had punched him in the gut on the way out.

Something like a purr rumbled from them. "You cannot turn back Death, but you can avenge it."

"Avenge it? StarClan wants me to hunt down the fox and kill it?"

They hesitated very briefly. "Yes. It killed a warrior still in his prime, and if left to its own devices will do it again."

"But Lionstar said she won't risk anymore warriors. We'll be ordered to chase it out, not kill it," Blackpaw argued.

"Then don't tell her. You are a creature of the shadows, Blackpaw. An agent of stealth. Steal away in secret and return a victor," they grinned. "You'll be a hero for avenging Snowstep. He'll be proud of you, I know it."

It played out in front of him; walking back into camp covered in the blood of that creature, and in its Death scent. Informing them all what he had done. Their praises and crows of delight. Snowstep proud and content in StarClan, his murderer felled. _Make your bloodline proud,_ Owlpaw had said. If he did this he would.

"Okay. I'll kill it."

Their purr grew stronger. "I am pleased to hear that. Off you go then, you have a fox to hunt."

Beneath his paws the ground buckled as the sickly yellow moon bled its colour into the midnight sky. His shadow friend swelled till they blotted out the world and their eyes, blazing amber, set the darkness alight. Just as the smoke curled its way into his lungs Blackpaw snapped awake back in his nest, sisters no longer beside him. He could still taste the smoke on his tongue.

It must have been late afternoon with the way the sunlight slanted over them, rich and golden. Pricked ears caught little sound from beyond the long grass. _Good._ He'd rather not have to make up a lie for why he was leaving camp by himself. The warriors probably wouldn't even let him leave by himself, not with the fox unaccounted for. His claws sunk into the soft ground. Everything would be better once that foul creature was dead.

Quietly he rose, paw steps light on the grass. He poked his head out of the apprentice's den hoping there would be no on in the camp. Nerves struck him when he spotted Robinleap and Ivyfrost by High Hill - they'd see him if he so much as stepped foot out of the den. _How am I going to sneak past…?_

A coldness tapped at his shoulder and he flinched. But it was only a curious shadow coming to drape itself over him. Blackpaw gave it a warm smile and a soft purr. As he watched it the shadow began to grow, seeping down his spine and over his sides, up his head and around his throat. It felt warm, comforting. Like being back in the nursery with his mother.

" _Keep to the shadows,"_ his strange friend whispered. " _You_ are _the shadows now."_

Dubiously Blackpaw shifted out of the long grass, keeping to the afternoon's long shadows. A part of him expected Robinleap and Ivyfrost to spot him immediately, but their eyes stayed on each other, caught up in their conversation. Growing in confidence he broke into a quick trot, slipping round the outside of the camp till he stopped outside the trampled nursery. Dried blood still speckled the ground. Lowering his face he sniffed around for remnants of fox scent. It wasn't hard to pick up.

He lifted his head and stared into the forest as if he could see the trail left behind. That same anger from his dream awoke in his veins. Snowstep hadn't deserved to die like that - he had a whole life laid out in front of him. But it had been ripped away by a cowardly fox, stooping so low to terrorise mothers and elders. This power had been given to him to protect, and he had frozen when the time came to use it. Now...now he would use it for vengeance.

It was using his power to protect, Blackpaw decided as he crept into the buzzing forest. The fox might come back again if left alone, or it could cross into DarkClan territory and take another life there. A protector, that's what he was. For both Clans. For all.

The trail brought him alongside the Burial Tree. From the shadows he stayed in he could see the fresh dirt piled up in a mound, and Ripplestreak sitting beside it, head bowed and smelling of grief. His heart lurched painfully. Death was _cruel._ It took and took and never gave back.

Blackpaw turned his eyes from Ripplestreak's mourning. If Death would so greedily rip the young away, he would return the favour by slitting the throat of Death's agent. He curled his lip and hurried away, shadows lashing out as he went. With a flick of his tail he turned them to snakes and sent them winding up into the trees. _Find it. Hunt it. Chase it._

Around him the forest acted like it wasn't harbouring a murderer. Birdsong filled his ears, as did the rustle of leaves in the breeze. A squirrel scrambled up into a low lying branch when he passed, watching him intently. It was hard to resist the temptation to hunt it. He hadn't eaten since before the gathering and his stomach was quite happy to remind him of that. The need to eat paled in comparison to his task. Snowstep would never be able to hunt for his Clan again.

He could smell LightClan's border with the Unknown. Far on the other side of the territory he knew the Old Willow stood as a barrier to that side's Unknown. Here there was only the border. There was a rustle overhead and one of his shadow snakes popped into view. A shadowy forked tongue flickered out. It jerked its head towards the border and shifted into the shape of a tiny fox.

Blackpaw smiled, "thank you," then went to kill a fox.

It was sniffing around the base of a pine tree just beyond the border, patches of fur missing from Dewpatch's claws. The wind blew against Blackpaw's face - he was downwind, it wouldn't know he was even there until it was too late. Until he was standing over it while it died.

Carefully he prowled through the grass, black against fresh green. Stalking. Hunting. He was within a rabbits leap of it when he stood straight up. The fox caught the movement, flinched backwards, and stared him down. A rumbling growl echoed from it. Blackpaw could admit that it was a terrifying creature up close, long muzzle opened in a snarl that showed off every one of those sharp teeth. Some still had boodstains on them.

Blackpaw stood his ground as it towered over him. Remained standing there as it stepped closer with a savage grin. "This," he hissed, "is for Snowstep."

And he let that anger raging inside him loose.

Let the darkness turn sharp and feral.

Turned it on that fox with a tilt of his head. He felt the warmth of fresh blood soak his face, heard the fox _screaming_ , saw the anger that had once been inside him personified by his shadows. Claws and teeth and fangs of shadow, ripping and tearing and chewing. It whined pitifully once he called the shadows off, eyes rolling. Pathetic really, for a murdering monster.

"For Snowstep," Blackpaw murmured, claws pressed to its bloodied throat. Taking a life he found was remarkably easy. He wasn't sure if that realisation concerned him or not.

When he returned to camp after the sun had set covered in blood and stinking of Death he pretended their gasps of horror were shouts of praise.

He'd avenged Snowstep.

He was a hero.

Something deep and dark inside him opened its eyes and _grinned._


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Brown plains streamed up against a towering wall of slate stone; a gash of trodden down dirt split the sea of grass, and it was down that path that a line of weary cats walked. It was obvious that they had travelled far, their pelts were messy and streaked with dirt, their steps heavy, their faces drawn. But there was an excitement beginning to bubble as they passed under the shadow thrown by that wall of stone. A grand archway. A monolithic gateway.

Blackpaw knew this was not his dream; knew that it wasn't a dream at all, but a memory. It was not a memory of his, but how else could something be so clear as this? It was like the world he'd stepped into had been lovingly crafted from warm, _warm_ memories.

In the harsh sunlight something dark caught his eye - a smudge of black. His breath caught in his throat. They were small, a runt maybe, with a coat a raven would envy. Such silky black. And his _eyes._ Blackpaw wondered if they were what the ocean looked like.

 _Who are you?_

"Leon!" Now he, who had shouted the little cat's name, was his complete opposite. An explosion of fiery orange and the presence to match. He grinned at Leon. "We're here!"

"I told you we'd make it," Leon snarked. "Did you doubt me, Cyrith? So mean."

Cyrith curled his tail, "how could I ever doubt you?"

The edges of his vision were growing blurry, strained. Vaguely he could hear someone calling his name from beyond this dream but he didn't want to go. He wanted to stay in this magnificent world of grass that flowed like rivers, arching stone towers, and _him._ Who was he? Was he important? Why was he seeing this? _Stay, stay, stay, stay._

"Blackpaw!" He jerked free from the clutches of his dream, almost slamming face first into Gorsewhisker standing over him. The dusty brown warrior frowned.

"It's past sunrise. You should have been awake a while ago," he said.

With a grunt Blackpaw pulled himself out of his nest and dropped into a low stretch. There was a companionship missing with Gorsewhisker, one that had been so strong with Snowstep. It made doing anything with his mentor difficult. As did the wariness. They tried to be subtle about it, but he noticed it. He did them all a favour and now they looked at him like he was _wrong_.

"Sorry, Gorsewhisker."

Almost a moon later and still they watched him as if waiting. For what he didn't know. Maybe to witness what he did to the fox: the explosion, the anger. Lionstar had taken Robinleap out to see the body. She said nothing when she returned, to him or the Clan - the look in her eyes had been enough though. The Clan was trying, Blackpaw could see that, trying to forget the blood that had soaked him and the stench that had cloaked him.

 _A hero, so much for that._

"Come. We're going to work on some fighting before your duties this afternoon." Gorsewhisker's amber eyes narrowed slightly, "not that you apparently need much practice, fox hunter."

Three moons of elder duties as punishment for putting himself in danger. Each afternoon he fed them, got them water, checked for ticks, and did whatever else they wanted. Really it didn't seem like much of a punishment. Ashfoot and Coldflower were always kind to him.

"Do you think I'll be made a warrior soon?" Blackpaw asked, squinting against the sun as he stepped out into camp.

Sunstreak's kits, old enough to be annoying, were play fighting around High Hill. No doubt they'd be pestering the elders later. Rainswipe slipped out of the nursery grinning from ear to ear, a blindingly happy new father.

"Perhaps. If you pass your assessments and Lionstar is happy with your training. Your sisters will for sure; they're smart and sure-footed," Gorsewhisker answered.

Blackpaw's tail twitched, "and I'm not smart or sure-footed?"

"That remains to be seen. Hurry up, we don't have much time thanks to you sleeping in."

Out in the forest his shadows told him two patrols were out: a hunting patrol near Owl's Crest (Badgerstripe, Lilypaw, and Dewpatch), and a border patrol shuffling its way along the Old Willow's side of the Unknown (Windrose, Robinleap, Swiftwing, and Sunstreak). A busy, normal day. Since the fox attack the border's were checked and remarked three times a day - morning, noon, and night. It was a little pedantic, clearly Snowstep's murder had shaken Lionstar deeper that she liked to show.

Blackpaw wanted to comfort his mother. But all he could see when she spoke was that look of fear.

"What can you hear?" Gorsewhisker asked.

Only the usual forest sounds. The wind lazily strolling through the leaves, a symphony of bird chatter and the low beat of their wings, a family of squirrels shooting back into hiding. Then there were the _unusual._ His shadows quiet whispers of what they felt and saw - the patrols, DarkClan cats inside their own territory.

He told Gorsewhisker the usual, receiving an affirmative nod in return. "Good."

The Training Grove wasn't empty. Goldenpaw's fur was flecked with dirt as she flipped Robinleap onto his back in one swift movement. Her temporary mentor while Rainswipe cooed over his kits sneezed dust from his nose and purred, "very nice."

"You fight as well as your mother," Gorsewhisker praised.

Just like that Blackpaw found himself fading into the background, forgotten in lieu of his brilliant sister. He didn't care really, but he would have preferred if they could fall over themselves around her later when he wasn't supposed to be training.

"Blackpaw," Gorsewhisker said sternly, "pay attention. Let's go, we'll start with simple sparring and see if we can move up from there. Try and learn a bit from your sister."

At least Goldenpaw looked a little uncomfortable, grimacing at the warrior. Of course she didn't _mean_ to be everyone's ideal apprentice, it just came naturally. Goldenpaw was the jewel of the family, Lilypaw the kind one; he wasn't quite sure where he fit in yet. The one with hidden magic powers, the one that StarClan visited most nights.

Sinking into a crouch he stared down his mentor. One day he'd show them just how strong he really was, what greatness flowed through his veins. For now he'd just have to be average. He could do that. StarClan knew otherwise, that was all that mattered.

Later, when he was sore and bruised from hitting the dirt and weary from fetching bedding for the elders - paws foul with the stench of mousebile - he found his mother returning from a patrol. "Mother," he asked. "Do you want me to be more like Goldenpaw?"

She blinked at him, once, twice. "No, Blackpaw. All I want you to be is _you_. Can you promise me you'll just be you?"

"Yeah, I promise."

It was cold in StarClan that night; sky thick with clouds, a sickly orange circle burned into them where the moon sat. "Who was he?" Blackpaw asked. "The little cat in my dream."

His shadow friend floated just off the grass, shifting gently in the breeze. They were slowly becoming more feline and solid in shape, inching towards corporeal. "Someone like you - the Shadowstalker before you, in fact."

"I'm not the first Shadowstalker?" Blackpaw pricked his ears. Perhaps he could get in contact with the one before him, Leon, and learn from him. He wanted to ask him how he told his family what he power he held, how they reacted to it.

They shook their head, "No. There is a long line stretching out behind you. Shadowstalkers have stood in protection of this world for countless seasons."

"Protecting the world from what?" He twisted his shadows into a wispy bird, its wings leaving a trail of dark specks behind. "Is there something specific that we fight against?"

"Evil has many forms," they shrugged. "Some fight monsters, others their friends, sometimes it will be other Clans, and once or twice the monster is themself."

"Do you know what it is this time?" The bird let out a shrill chirp, more of a scream really, wheeling overhead. In the distance a strong wind ripped through the forest, tearing leaves free, sending them tumbling through the air.

"I do not."

Blackpaw frowned and made his bird land by his paws. It was only _barely_ bird shaped, but the creation of creatures was something he worked on often. What better way to distract his enemies than with a badger made of darkness? Or a huge snake, twisted and coiled in their path.

"Do they still look at you and see blood where there is none?" they asked.

He could still see it when he closed his eye sometimes, the fear and pain reflected in the fox's eyes as it bled out. "Yes. You said I'd be a hero to them, but all I've become is a mystery."

"Your Clans are too peaceful. What you did was brave, and good. Perhaps they just aren't ready to see you for what you really are."

"What am I really?

They cocked their head with a sly, sharp grin. "You are their future."

"No, Goldenpaw is LightClan's future. Everyone has made that abundantly clear; she's practically already in training to be leader," Blackpaw snorted.

"You're the leader's kit too, why shouldn't you be the one to follow in her pawsteps? Doesn't the idea appeal to you? You could protect them with all your strength and all your power."

It would be a lie to say he'd never thought about it, but what apprentice hadn't? To lead a Clan was to be StarClan-blessed. It was to carve a legacy into the very stars, to claw your own name in history. It was in his blood.

"Of course it does," he replied. "But the Clan doesn't look at me and see a leader. All they see is blood."

"Perhaps it is time to change that," they murmured.

Finally the moon tore through the clouds and flung its embers across the gray. The sky burst into flames, blistering hot, and before Blackpaw could ask what his shadow friend meant he was waking up in his nest with his eyes still white from the light of the fire.

He'd overslept again but there was no Gorsewhisker hanging over him, demanding he get up. Instead the den was empty. Outside the den he could hear voices, mutters and whispers. Quietly he slipped out into camp and blinked at what he saw. Lionstar stood at the bottom of High Hill, Dewpatch in front of her lips curled and teeth bared.

"You're questioning _my_ orders?" Lionstar sounded surprised.

"Of course I am!" Dewpatch shouted. "He shouldn't be being punished for protecting his Clan!"

Robinleap curled his tail. "He disobeyed direct orders and hunted down a fox _by himself_. An apprentice! He could have been killed, then we would have buried two bodies."

"That apprentice avenged Snowstep when you refused to. That apprentice made sure that fox would never hurt another one of us. He did a warrior's duty, and you punished and humiliated him for it!" Dewpatch snapped back.

"I sent him to learn some manners from his elders. An apprentice that cannot follow orders makes for a dangerous warrior," Lionstar replied.

 _Say something._

"What I did wasn't supposed to make me your enemy," Blackpaw said. The eyes of the Clan - all of them drawn by the commotion - fell on him. "Snowstep was my mentor and my friend. He didn't deserve to die like that, and he didn't deserve to have his murderer run free. That fox could have crossed into DarkClan territory and killed again there. It could have come back here and attacked the kits, the elders, another warrior. I did what I thought was right, that's all."

"You could have _died!_ " Goldenpaw exclaimed.

Blackpaw looked at her, at LightClan's shining future, and said, "Defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life. We are taught that from birth, is it not correct? Are they only empty words?"

"Do not preach the Code as an excuse for your behaviour. The Code also says that the leader's word is law and I said no one was to hunt the fox," Lionstar hissed. "We would have gone after is as a _Clan,_ in a patrol with strong, trained warriors. We would have put safety above anything else because the future of the Clan is more important than the past."

Dewpatch let out a vicious snarl. "That apprentice, your _son_ , went out and put the memory of his mentor, a great warrior, above his own life. He put the safety of the Clan above his own life. That is the bravery and selflessness of a true warrior. I am thankful for what he did."

"As am I." Coldflower was Snowstep's ghost, and she was beautiful in her grief. "Ashfoot and I appreciate his help but we would rather he do it of his free will instead of as punishment."

Lionstar watched the elder with a guarded gaze. "Does everyone else feel the same?"

"He's an apprentice that disobeyed what his leader said," Gorsewhisker replied. "He should be punished for it, or are we supposed to support apprentices and warriors ignoring their leader for the 'greater good'?"

Falconheart sighed, "he's right. Let this go and it sends a bad message to the next generation."

A hush descended when Ivyfrost emerged from the medicine den. Her eyes flicked around the Clan, then settled on her brother, hackles raised and glaring at their leader. "If I may state my own opinion," she said quietly, "yes Blackpaw disobeyed an order, but in this instance no one was hurt and a danger to the Clan was destroyed. He's done a moon of his punishment. Perhaps it is enough. I suspect he has learnt his lesson."

Lionstar was quiet for a moment, contemplating the words of her medicine cat. "Blackpaw. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I just wanted to help," he said in a small voice. Let them think he was buckling under the punishment, let them think he was a humiliated, silly apprentice. He _had_ learnt a lesson; that this Clan, its leader, would not run out to avenge the dead - would not put herself at risk for any of them.

"Then your punishment is finished." She turned away, ignoring the scoffs and disappointed huffs. "Returned to your duties, all of you."

Dewpatch sought Blackpaw out, determination painted across his face. "My family, myself included, want you to know that we appreciate what you did for Snowstep, and we wanted you to know that he cared very much for you. "

He ducked his head, throat suddenly tight. "Thank you. He meant a lot to me as well."

"I would like to promise you one of my kits to mentor when they are old enough," Dewpatch purred. "But that is ultimately up to Lionstar. I will try to persuade her, so hurry up and become a warrior!"

A warmth pooled in Blackpaw's heart, something that had been missing since the fox. "I hope I can be as good a mentor as Snowstep was."

"Of course you will be." Coldflower lay her tail across his shoulders. "My son watches over you, I don't doubt that he will guide you." She smiled warmly at him, "don't forget to visit us occasionally, dear."

The shadows nestled in his fur wiggled happily, thriving off the satisfaction beating through their master. He flicked an ear at them, sly smile growing. But still there were those in the Clan that did not completely trust him. His own mentor was one of them. Gorsewhisker was an old warrior, the last alive from his family, and the ways of the old were not lost on him.

"Out in the forest with you. If you're planning on becoming a warrior worthy of an apprentice you have work to do," Gorsewhisker muttered. "Can't have a mentor teaching an apprentice to hunt by fumbling around."

 _/ - \_

The little black cat from his dream was back - Leon. His beautiful ocean eyes sparkled in the pale night, catching the moonlight and throwing it back. He was ethereal in the pure light of the moon, and he was calling Blackpaw.

Not with his voice but with his face and his eyes and his everything.

He was standing on the opposite end of a meadow, yet Blackpaw could see him as if he was standing whiskers away. The shadows urged him on, pressing and pushing him. _Go to him. Follow him. Speak with him._

The grass was cool against his fur, brushing against his belly as he took hurried steps through the meadow. Surely seeing someone twice in a dream meant something? Did Leon want to talk to him? Was there some sort of connection between Shadowstalkers that made visiting dreams easy?

Only a few rabbitleaps away his heart sank a little as Leon turned away and started trotting into a forest that had grown behind him - tall, dark and intimidating. The darkness wasn't an enemy anymore, it was a friend. So Blackpaw, without an inch of fear, walked into the forest's waiting embrace. It took him greedily, great roots warping from the ground and magnificent trees bowing overhead. Even the forest's breath, its shadows and darkness, swept in closer; whispering over his ears and up his legs.

Like a phantom Leon slipped into view from behind a behemoth of a tree, the ocean in his eyes fluctuating. _Come,_ his grin said, _follow_.

His eyes flickered open in the real world and standing in the mouth of the den, flickering like a flame, was a ghost. Leon. _Follow._ Blackpaw pulled on a cloak of shadow and melted into the night, chasing after specter on the breeze.

They took to the trees, Leon slipping up the branches like water, Blackpaw more like an ill squirrel. Swiftly they crossed the territory Blackpaw always a few steps behind, never quite reaching or catching the pretty cat darting ahead. With eyes locked on him he followed without paying attention to where they were.

Until they stopped.

Until Blackpaw caught a scent on the air that was both LightClan and DarkClan - the border.

Until he looked down and saw what Leon had brought him to see.

The Clan's future, the Clan's brightest and best, nose to nose and purring with DarkClan's fourth apprentice whom Blackpaw had yet to meet. Rainpaw: Sootpaw and Shadepaw's sister, the eldest of the litter. They were happy, tails curled together, soft smiles painted on their muzzles. All right on the border between each of their Clans.

Something like a stone sunk in Blackpaw's belly; regret perhaps. For what other reason would he be shown this other than to use it? Here was Goldenpaw wrapped up with a DarkClan apprentice, and while there was peace between the Clans the rules still stood. InterClan relationships, other than loose friendships, were unacceptable.

Finally Leon stood at his side but he was warped and ever so slightly different from the Leon he had seen on that great path to the gateway. With bland ocean eyes he said, in a voice that was both whisper and rasp and certainly not the voice he had used before, "see?"

Had the afterlife Shadowstalkers went to corrupted and desecrated a beautiful soul?

Below Goldenpaw broke away from Rainpaw, said goodbye, and snuck back into LightClan. Above Blackpaw watched and felt something stirring inside; a resentment. He had been punished and humiliated and looked down upon for doing a _service_ to his Clan, for putting his life on the line for them. But here was Goldenpaw taking the rules and stamping on them, taking a lover from another Clan, sharing Clan secrets with them, threatening a delicate peace that had been stitched together with bloodshed and death.

The shadows roiled at his side.

Leon purred harshly, "bring her down before she brings down your Clan."


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

"It's been a while since you've been to one of these." Owlpaw looked older than the last time he'd seen her, more mature but still nothing like her father.

Blackpaw blinked his gaze away from Rainpaw. "I was being punished, so Lionstar wouldn't let me come."

"Yes, I heard about your little fox hunting expedition. Going against a leader's order? Very brazen," she smirked. "But also very brave and admirable. I assume you being here means your punishment is finished?"

Under a clear sky and a heavy moon DarkClan and LightClan gathered together. They mingled with such ease that it was hard to tell that a borderline sat thick between them. Such a precarious peace. He could see it practically hanging on for dear life. All it would take was an argument over a bit of prey or a border slipping ever so slightly closer. Or two apprentices flaunting the rules.

"I was supposed to have another two moons but there were others in the Clan that disagreed. They spoke with Lionstar and she relented," Blackpaw replied.

Owlpaw, for the first time he'd ever seen, smiled. "Your Clan supports you," she said. "And you took my advice."

"Did I?"

"You made your bloodline proud. There aren't many that can say their son or grandson hunted down and killed a fox when he was only an apprentice," she explained, sounding oddly proud.

Blackpaw cocked his head. "What about you?" he demanded. "Have you made your bloodline proud?"

She contemplated it for a few moments, blue eyes focused on his yellow. Then she grinned. "You've changed a bit, Blackpaw. Where's all this confidence come from? I make them proud each and every day; I strive to."

"Falconheart said you grow into your personality. Maybe I'm finally starting to fit mine," Blackpaw retorted.

Through the crowd he could see his father talking to two DarkClan warriors - Nightfire and Stormdash. It was strange how comfortable the two Clans were with each other, like they were one Clan. Sure the truce of the Gathering dangled over them so they couldn't fight without angering StarClan but to act so familiar? "I have a question," he said.

"Go for it."

Blackpaw lowered his voice so that only Owlpaw could hear. "How easily do you think this peace between our Clans could be broken?"

He mostly expected her to look at him strangely and walk away, perhaps voice her concerns about an odd apprentice with an odd question to her father. _That_ would be a problem. But instead Owlpaw hummed and leaned her head back to watch the fat moon. "There was an elder in DarkClan, Crowheart, he died just before I became an apprentice. He was _very_ old and he remembered a lot. My father liked him, admired him, but did not appreciate his stories."

"Why?"

"Well, Crowheart liked to remind us young ones about the true history of our Clans. When the founders finally agreed to be peaceful there were those that did not appreciate it. It was a shaky peace to say the least but it stood, sort of. But, as Crowheart put it, greed devours even the good." Owlpaw looked back down at him. "The different leaders of LightClan and DarkClan have had to put down countless insurgencies. He used to say at the end that peace is the easiest thing to break in the world. Does that answer your question?"

"It does, sort of. Could have just said yes," Blackpaw teased.

Owlpaw purred, flicking an ear. "But then how would you be able to hear how clever I am? Why'd you ask, any way?"

"What if I was to tell you that something was occurring that could destroy our peace once more?"

"I'd be very intrigued as to what that 'something' was and why you're telling me instead of a deputy or leader," she answered. "Or is this whole conversation hypothetical and you're just testing my loyalty to my Clan?"

He snorted and shook his head with a slight, amused smile. "Oh, I don't doubt your loyalty, Owlpaw. I'm just looking for someone to trust with information that might not be believed by others."

"This is all very cryptic, are you getting to the point?" Owlpaw huffed.

"Not tomorrow night but the night after meet me where Shaded Creek crosses the border. I'll show you what I mean," he said.

Now she looked like she was contemplating telling someone. "So we're _that_ close are we?"

The Clans were beginning to break up, drifting back to their own territories as the gathering drew to a close. Blackpaw rose to his paws and said over his shoulder, "you said you were intrigued, so I'll see you there."

It did not go unnoticed by him that Rainpaw and Goldenpaw took as long as possible to walk away. A hiss threaded by his ears.

" _Did I not say that she would agree?"_

 _You did._

His shadow friend purred hideously. " _I am sure that she will do anything to protect her Clan, just as you will. Heroes. A promise to a brighter future."_

They curled under and over him, sweeping between his legs, invisible to everyone - even him. But he could feel them, the air shifting as they moved, the murmur of the shadows. _I just want the peace to last._

" _It will, if you stamp out the sparks of rebellion."_

Lately Blackpaw had been entertaining the idea of leading. It felt almost...forbidden to think about it, like the position of leader was already Goldenpaw's and to think of it as his was treachery. At the same time he could hardly bear to picture LightClan under the rule of 'Goldenstar'. She'd be the same as mother, loathed to actually do anything to defend the Clan, content to watch the peace slowly decay - that was without the blatant disregard to Clan rules she was already showing.

Perhaps it would only ever be a silly apprentice fantasy. His future was in his own paws, or so his shadow friend said.

His dreams the next two nights were strange. Endless fields of snow and ice, and an ocean of blood drowning it all wave by wave. An arena on fire, screams muffled by the black smoke. Ocean eyes melting, dripping, bleeding. Someone shouting his name in a voice he thought he recognised. The scent of death clogging his nose; and finally all of LightClan nothing more than broken, battered corpses covered in flies, and a golden pelted figure standing in the midst of it all.

" _A catalyst,"_ a scarred voice hissed. " _All it takes is one little shove, and your Clans crumble."_

Within his veins StarClan's power roiled viciously. It knew something, could sense something, a growing darkness about to crest the trees and sweep his home away.

As Blackpaw threw on a coat of shadow and walked out of camp long after the moon had set a feeling of rightness fell over him. He and Owlpaw would explain to Goldenpaw and Rainpaw that what they were doing was endangering their Clans. They were smart cats, they'd understand and stop breaking the rules. A simple solution to what could have been a hopeless situation.

Pure, white moonlight glittered on the leaf litter, a sure sign that StarClan was pleased with him. Sometimes he swore he could feel them at his side, walking alongside him, watching his every step. Silent guardians of the precious power he harboured. Quite often he couldn't help but wonder if it was Leon, the Shadowstalker before him, curious to see what good their shared power was doing.

Shaded Creek was a black snake curling through the trees; its pebble shore quietly sung the cold waters song. The scent of DarkClan began to taint the air. He knew for certain that Goldenpaw was with Rainpaw, he'd watched through slitted eyes as she'd crept out a tiny hole in the back of the apprentice's den.

In the pale light Owlpaw looked otherworldly, and still very much not like her father. She had her head tilted back eyes wandering the stars winking above. With a simple thought Blackpaw sent a shadow out, dashing passed the other apprentice and into the darkness behind her. He trusted her, sort of. It returned moments later whispering that all was silent, all was good.

"I wasn't sure you'd show," he said.

Owlpaw didn't bother turning her gaze away from the sky. "It seemed like what you wanted to show me was important. My curiosity outweighed my common sense."

The sound of the creek masked his pawsteps. "You weren't even a little concerned that I might be dragging you out here just to kill you? Maybe I'm the possible destruction of peace."

She snorted, "didn't even cross my mind. You don't have it in you."

Around him the shadows seemed to twitch. It gave him the confidence to smile slyly and say, "then you don't know me at all."

It only made Owlpaw laugh. "Of course, we're nothing but acquaintances. There's not much we do know about each other. So what did you drag me out of the comfort of my nest for?"

He jerked his head towards LightClan's forest. "Follow me, quietly." Beside his ear his shadows whispered. They'd been following Goldenpaw since she'd left the den, dogging her every step. Now they darted between her and him confirming that Rainpaw was there. Gently he cast out a thin layer of shadow to cover them both, let them blend into the meaningless silhouettes of a nightlit forest. They would not see them until the final moment, when it was too late to hide what they were truly doing.

In the silence of the night they began to hear chatter sooner than expected. Beside him Blackpaw watched Owlpaw prick her ears, then glance at him. He shook his head. They were close enough now to be heard if they spoke and the night would go to waste if they were sprung. Ahead, through the shifting leaves, he spotted a golden pelt; a sunray abandoned to the shadows.

His shadows curled tighter around them both. They seemed to shiver in anticipation, of what he didn't know. Then he heard Rainpaw's voice - and so did Owlpaw. He didn't hold her back when she darted forward, instead he stripped her of his shadows so that the stars and the moon and the living could see her. The wind whispered by him; he knew StarClan strode alongside him, proud of what he was doing.

" _Though friendships are formed,"_ his shadow friend murmured, " _the divide must remain stronger. For the good of the Clan. For the good of the future."_

"Rainpaw!? What are you _doing_?" At the sound of Owlpaw stumbling upon a once well kept secret came also the sound of something cracking. If he had known that it was his future splitting - ripping right down the middle - perhaps he might have turned and walked the other way. But he only passed it off as a branch in the distance. With a flick of his ear the liquid dark clinging to his skin scuttled back to the shadows and he stepped into view. It was a moment he was unaware would haunt him long after the sun rose on his death.

There was no happiness in Goldenpaw's expression, just pure horror and maybe a little guilt. Owlpaw had barged her way right in between the two of them, hackles raised, teeth bared. He cocked his head, ran his eyes over the oddly familiar lines of her rage. It seemed that she only ever looked like her father when angry; vaguely, a phantom similarity between her dainty anger and his grizzled normality. Goldenpaw's horror grew even darker when she spotted him. He could practically see her watching her own bright future burn to the ground.

"It's not what it looks like!" Rainpaw protested; cold moonlight speckled her stone coloured coat, played gently across her curling tabby swirls. Fear swam in the depths of her blue eyes.

Owlpaw scoffed, "what else is it supposed to look like?! Sharing secrets with an opposing Clan? Contemplating changing allegiances? Engaging in a relationship that is against the Code? Take your pick, Rainpaw. They are all as bad as each other."

"We love each other!" Goldenpaw protested.

A shudder ran along Owlpaw's spine. "Love? What do you know of love? You've known each other, what, two moons at the most? This isn't love. It's adrenaline and the thrill of taking a risk." She turned back to Rainpaw and spat, "don't you remember Crowheart's stories? What he used to say? What you're doing could tear our peace apart!"

The shock of being stumbled upon had worn off; Rainpaw rose to her full height. "Maybe our peace should end."

Blackpaw felt those words glance off him like actual blows. "Do you think the same?" he asked his sister, desperately hoping that she did not. When she ducked her head his gut lurched. A rage began to bubble, poisonous. "Our ancestors _died_ for this peace. There was so much bloodshed it turned Shaded Creek scarlet! And you want to risk it all for apprenticehood infatuation?"

A thick tension was beginning to drip from the leaves. "What gives you two any right to stand there and say we don't know anything about love? You don't know anything either! What we're doing isn't harming anyone. It's just, us," Rainpaw argued.

"What happens," Owlpaw hissed, "when leafbare creeps into the forest and the food runs out and tensions rise high? What happens when borders get pushed, and the peace begins to tremble? What happens when one Clan declares war? What happens when you face each other on opposing sides of the battlefield? What happens when you put your love before loyalty? What happens when your love costs the life of a Clanmate? The Code is in place for a reason. It protects us from having to make decisions like that."

Rainpaw shrunk back with a scowl, and then spat, "should have told that pretty speech to your mother. That might've saved her life."

Cold, bitter quiet smothered Owlpaw. "We're going home. Now. I'll tell Fallenstar all that happened here if you don't, and I'm sure the punishment will be severe given the history our Clan has with affections shared outside Clan borders," she said.

She opened her mouth to say more but Goldenpaw spoke over her. "It's fine, Rainpaw, go home. We'll sort this out."

The two DarkClanners, rippling with rage,

"How dare you put our peace at risk," Blackpaw seethed. "The Clan expects you to be leader someday, you of all cats have to uphold the Code."

Goldenpaw's face twisted, "the leader I plan to be is not the leader you all want. Our peace could last for eternity if two Clans became one."

"So you want to destroy our history as two Clans? For love? StarClan created two Clans for a reason, Goldenpaw. To balance the world. It's not something you get to decide to change!" he snapped in reply.

"As leader my word is law, anything _I_ decide _will_ be supported by StarClan," she snarled. "What I do as leader is up to me. Why does this concern you so much? Do you think you can mold me into some perfect leader like mother alongside you stepping into father's position so we can match? Two perfect siblings?" Goldenpaw thrust herself into Blackpaw's face. "It's a shame you already ruined your chance at perfection with that fox stunt, isn't it?"

The poisonous anger bubbled higher, slipped into his bloodstream, leaked into his limbs. It fed his power and the shadows gathered, skittering through fallen leaves to linger at his paws. Someone's breath tickled his ear.

"I avenged Snowstep. Lionstar was going to let his killer just escape. It was the right thing to do," Blackpaw growled. "Maybe you should just forget being leader if this is how you're going to act. Leave it to a more level headed warrior who'll actually look after the Clan."

"Who? You?" Goldenpaw laughed. "Do you think the Clan will support you as leader? Half of them don't trust you now. You'll kill the Clan chasing stupid revenge for all the lost and injured. No, you'll never be leader, Blackpaw. It's not your place in this world."

It didn't seem like it would hurt, hearing that. From anyone else the words may have just glanced straight off of him. But this was his sister. His own blood. It fractured something in him. His shadows exploded, rippling up into the air before falling back to the ground in the loose shape of a feline. They whispered softly, quietly, soothingly. His fear overwhelmed them; he'd been discovered, a stupid slip up, and it would ruin him.

Horror slipped over Goldenpaw's face and she took a hesitant step away. "What's that? This is a trick right, to scare me? This isn't real," she mumbled. A hint of clarity chipped away at the horror. "This is how you killed that fox, isn't it? Mother told me the body was an absolute mess. How are you doing this, Blackpaw? Why haven't you told anyone, the Clan needs to know. This is _dangerous_. You just lost control and this happened. You could kill someone!"

"No!" Blackpaw shouted, and his shadows lurched forward wicked claws curving into the grass. "No, no one needs to know about this! I have it under control. It's nothing. I'm learning to use it. The Clan doesn't need to know. _No one_ needs to know."

"You have to tell Mother. She's the Clan leader she should know if someone in her Clan has access to something dangerous like this, not to mention that you're her son." Goldenpaw wouldn't stop talking. "Ivyfrost might know something, StarClan could have told her to expect this. How long have you been hiding this for? You can't just hide something like this." She wouldn't stop. She was turning away. She was going to tell everyone and they'd never trust him again.

Gently something brushed up against his side. " _You know what you have to do,_ " Leon murmured. His voice, smooth as silk but jarring at the same time, felt like cold water on a boiling day. " _She'll ruin the Clan's image of you. She'll continue this precarious relationship. She'll become leader. She'll ruin an entire history. You know what you need to do._ "

He threw up a wall in front of Goldenpaw that brought her to a jolting stop. " _This is for the good of the Clan. StarClan walks with you, always._ " She turned, eyes wide, to face the shadow cat. It cocked its head at her, lashed a wispy tail.

"Blackpaw," she whispered, voice cracking. "Blackpaw, stop. We can get you help."

The shadow cat fell away. "Why do I need help? There's nothing wrong with me. StarClan gave me this." He felt his heart give a steady beat. Then he sent his shadows wrapping round Goldenpaw's throat. Panic filled her eyes and she thrashed her head, but how could she dislodge something she couldn't grab at? He wrapped them tighter, till he could feel the frantic flutter of her pulse. A thin, reedy wail escaped her mouth as she threw herself to the grass and writhed. Fear rolled off her in waves.

She begged him with her eyes, pleaded silently for her life.

"StarClan wants this," he said.

A crack echoed through the forest.


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

" _Where were you that night?"_

" _I was out in the forest, hunting."_

" _And you didn't scent or hear anything that could have alerted you to an intruder?"_

" _No, I started heading for Owl's Crest, then caught the scent of a squirrel which turned me back towards Shaded Creek."_

"LightClan, we are gathered here today to honour the hard work of two dedicated apprentices. Even through tragedy they have persevered and demonstrated loyalty to their Clan. In them we see a brighter future, and a stronger LightClan."

" _So you're saying you followed the scent of a squirrel which just so happened to lead right to Goldenpaw's body?"_

" _I hadn't finished. As I was following another scent began to grow stronger. Death's stench. For it to smell that I knew it had to be something bigger than just carrion, so I left the squirrel's trail to investigate. That's….that's when I found her."_

"Lilypaw, step forward." Under the light of the sun it was easy to see the strain in every movement she made as she crossed the few rabbitleaps to her mother. "I, Lionstar, leader of LightClan, call upon our warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. She has trained hard to learn the ways of our Code and what it means to be a warrior, and I present her to you as a warrior in her turn. Lilypaw, do you promise to follow and uphold the laws of the Code, to do all you can to defend your Clan even at the cost of your life?"

Her voice trembled as she replied. "I do."

"Then," Lionstar said with a slight, proud smile, "by the power of StarClan I give you your warrior name. Lilyfur, StarClan honours your faith and your bravery, and we welcome you as a full warrior of LightClan."

The Clan shouted her name loudly, all of them, because who did not feel a pinch of pride that the shy Lilypaw who had endured such a tragedy so young had made it so far as to become Lilyfur? The proudest of them all was her father and he, with a rumbling purr, licked her cheek. Amongst the pride glittering in his eyes lay a smudge of dark grief; there should have been another standing in the sun, receiving a name to match their growth.

He swallowed the light with his pitch black pelt, made even darker by the shadows he hid on himself. There was no trace of the bumbling little kit that had stumbled up to his mentor for the first time. Now he held himself like a King, a leader, a God. Blood that only he could see stained his paws, tainted his heart. Ghosts lurked in the corners of his vision. But he let the Clan see none of that. They only saw a proud apprentice about to be rewarded for his hard work. It did not escape his attention that there were some Clanmates that turned their gazes to the ground when Lionstar faced him. It did not hurt him anymore. One day they'd understand.

His mother's words slipped by, his focus more on where she stood than what she said. The gold of her fur lit like a flame, beating like the sun. A golden queen of a golden land. He wondered what they'd say of him when he stood there, when he dragged LightClan back to its glory days.

"Blackpaw, do you promise to follow and uphold the laws of the Code, to do all you can to defend your Clan even at the cost of your life?" There seemed to be more of an emphasis on swearing his life. Did she really expect, after everything that had happened, that he was not more than ready to die for his Clan?

So he straightened his spine, flicked his ears to attention, and replied with nothing but strength: "I do."

"Then by the power of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Blackstorm, StarClan honours your dedication and loyalty, and we welcome you as a full warrior of LightClan." Amongst the shouts of his new name, he caught what slipped from his mother's mouth. "May you follow the light." The look of pride on his own face attempted to slip into something like hurt. It wasn't because he hadn't done those things some suspected he had, because he had. It was more like he hadn't anticipated that suspicion to come from his own mother. Surely she looked at him and saw only the best?

" _And what was the first thing you did when you found Goldenpaw?"_

" _I...I don't know. I just went kind of blank. Like I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. It felt like the world had slipped out from under me. Earlier that day I'd seen her so happy and full of life. Then...then I saw that."_

" _You came back to camp, do you remember that? You were silent, asking for Lionstar."_

" _I don't, no."_

" _So you have no idea what could have happened to her? I'm sure you noticed yourself that there was no blood, no sign of a struggle. Just her."_

" _No. I don't know what happened. I was just out hunting. I wish I'd come across her sooner, maybe I could have saved her from whatever happened."_

" _That'll be all, Blackpaw. You can go."_

He supposed the suspicion was well earned.

After all more than one did not survive that night.

Rainpaw's death was bloodier, apparently. It had wound him up in intrigue and confusion; what in the world did Owlpaw have to gain from the murder of Rainpaw? She was practically already chosen for future leader with it in her blood and bones. Aside from that DarkClan was more than chatty about how talented she was, how hardworking and determined. For almost a whole moon he'd been left with no answers. Some nights he even sent a little shadow bird out to see if she was prowling the border; she never was.

"Blackstorm. That's a strong name, suits you well." His grandfather was a grizzled old cat with a touch of elderly softness about him. In his glory days, Ashfoot had been a fearsome warrior, the pride of LightClan. He'd given that mantle to Falconheart, and then to Goldenpaw. Shame she was no longer around to carry it.

He dipped his head in thanks and respect. "I hope I can live up to it."

Ashfoot scoffed. "You'll do fine, you've got my blood in your veins, and you have to make your sister proud too." His usually hard eyes softened. "She should have been beside you two - StarClan, she had the makings of a leader."

"Do you think I have the makings of a leader?" Blackstorm wouldn't lie to himself that he still didn't feel the sting of guilt when Goldenpaw was mentioned. It was something that he had buried so deep and so dark in his mind in the hopes that it wouldn't torment him. Still, the nights he did not visit his shadow friend, Goldenpaw came to him dripping in scarlet.

"I'd keep those ambitions quiet if I were you," Ashfoot replied. "But yes, I think you do. All you have to do," he said as he turned away, "is convince the rest of the Clan."

He preened under the attention of the Clan while they congratulated him on his name and new title. Some of them anyway. Gorsewhisker, even after moons of being his mentor, stayed away. His dislike was clear; their training sessions had always been cold and to the point. He'd done his job though Blackstorm supposed, given an apprentice the knowledge necessary to survive.

"We did it!" Lilyfur purred once the Clan went back to their duties. "Warriors, finally."

Blackstorm couldn't help but smile. "No more picking ticks off the elders, no more collecting moss. Just protecting and feeding the Clan."

When there was no reply he looked over at her. It was a mistake. The guilt threatened to drown him once more at the mere sight of Lilyfur's grief. He never meant to hurt her. Never her. She was the youngest, the smallest, the kindest. "Is it wrong for us to feel so happy when Goldenpaw isn't here with us?" she murmured.

"No," he said softly, resting his head atop hers. "No it's not wrong, she'd want us to be happy." Her terrified face flickered across his eyes, then the resignation as she realised death waited: hungry. "What do you think her name would have been?" It was a poor attempt at a distraction.

A soft purr buzzed against his chin. "I think she would have been Goldenheart."

It almost made him flinch. He'd done the right thing, but that didn't mean it didn't haunt him. "Yeah," he answered, "I think that would have suited her."

"Don't dwell on it." Falconheart's voice made them both jump. He and Lionstar always looked like such polar opposites; her the shining sun breaking through the nighttime gloom, and he the creeping shadow waiting for evening's embrace. Blackstorm had seen first paw that despite their differences their love for each other was ferocious. "You'll have plenty of time to think about the past during your vigil later."

"And about your future," Lionstar added.

The future. By the Stars did he have plans for the future; plans that rippled the shadows clinging to his very being. Blackstorm had come to the understanding that peace needed to be set in blood. It was the only way to save them all, to bring their shining glory back. StarClan had shown him that. Goldenpaw had shown him that. He traced the lines of his mother's regal stance and knew that one day he would stand in her place blessed with nine lives - given StarClan's highest honour.

Perhaps Lilyfur would be at his side as his deputy. If anyone could understand his reasoning it would be her. He'd place his whole world in her paws for safekeeping.

Under a watchful moon, Blackstorm fought against the desire to fall asleep. Patches of white light shone through the trees, softly illuminating the forest around camp. Night's sharp chill filled his nose, as did the soft scents of his sleeping Clanmates. Somewhere behind him he knew his sister sat. It was much more difficult that he'd imagined to stay awake; really only the humiliation of being found snoozing was keeping his eyes from closing.

He turned his head to the grass by the nursery, and in his head, he watched that fox saunter out of it with Snowstep gripped in its teeth. It felt like seasons ago he'd watched his mentor bleed to death since the world showed its true, vicious colours. He was glad, sometimes, of the change that bloody incident thrust upon him. Would Snowstep have accepted his power as a blessing, or would he have feared it like Goldenpaw?

The darkness swelled, pitched to a darker shade of ebony. Blackstorm curled his lip. It no longer mattered what anyone - living or dead - thought of his power. He _was_ going to use it to drag LightClan into a starlit future, and one day they _would_ be grateful.

" _Blackstorm._ "

His ears pricked and he swung his head to the squished down grass of the camp mouth. Leon's flickering form waited there, smiling ever so softly. In his chest, his heart began to beat a strange rhythm; a strange mix of foreboding and anticipation. If it hadn't been for Leon showing him the truth Goldenpaw might still be alive, flaunting the rules. So he gave this spectre his full attention, looked him right in his blue-green eyes; cocked his head and mouthed, "what do you have to show me?"

Leon smiled sharply, and though Blackstorm would hardly call himself a master of this little cat's smiles it did not seem quite right. But all his caution leaked away when Leon flicked his tail, beckoning him in such a coy manner that he could hardly resist. In an instant, he tossed up a shadow cat that resembled himself in everything but corporal being, and then he closed his eyes and sunk his consciousness into the darkness waiting.

His body would sit vigil while his mind wandered.

It felt rather freeing to slip through the forest at night in a body made from shadow. Above, peeking between the leaves, the sky was cloudless and brimming with stars. Half a moon hung lazily - and a soft midnight breeze played with his shadow body. Such an atmosphere of peace made him purr, a gentle rumbled passed along by his real, and now empty, shell.

A heavy creaking announced the Old Willow before the towering tree spilled into sight. Bleached pale by the moon it looked otherworldly and mildly unsettling. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Somewhere," Leon replied. "Do you not trust me?"

Without hesitation Blackstorm replied, "I trust you."

That same sharp yet somehow wrong smile sent a flutter through him, and he missed the way Leon's phantom form seemed to briefly change shape. "You'll see soon, we're almost there."

Beyond the Old Willow, through some dense forest, was the Unknown. It sprawled out before them both, a broad expanse of rolling grasslands, small pockets of trees, and a mammoth river that split the land in two. Out there Blackstorm was a stranger. No Clan owned that land, and no Clan cat dared to brave it alone. Fortunately, he wasn't alone. Leon led the way with a sure-fire step almost like he had walked this path before.

"Did you live here?" Blackstorm blurted.

"No. My home is far from here; a different place and a different time. But I am beginning to grow fond of your territories."

He quickened his pace to walk side-by-side with him. "Before I saw you for the first time I had a dream. You were in it, walking towards this huge stone wall. There was someone else with you. Cyrith, I think?"

There was no missing the way Leon flinched, or the way his eyes became the sea stirred up by a vicious storm. "Memories," he murmured, "of a time long ago. My life."

"Will you tell me about it?" Blackstorm asked softly.

"Not now; one day." He must have looked disappointed because Leon added quickly, "it's a long, quite sad story, not something I'd like to tell on a night as important as your vigil."

Blackstorm pricked his ears. "Do you know much about the Clans?"

"Only what I've picked up from you and your life," Leon replied.

They waded slowly through chest high grass, disturbing sleeping birds that burst into the sky in a racket of cries and wings, and unsettling insects that chirped and buzzed. Over the soft sound rustling, he could hear the river grow louder. "Why do you visit me?"

Leon stopped then - where the river's song was a lullaby and the grass began to thin. He looked truly beautiful in the moonlight, and Blackstorm's heart ached for an answer. Why did Leon come to him? A secondborn, often passed over, warrior in a Clan where hardly anything happened? Day in, day out he followed the same dull routine. It wasn't exactly exciting. Maybe he was only interested in their shared Shadowstalker heritage.

"You interest me," was all he said.

Its waters were mixed pitch black and glinting silver, and it flowed gently against its banks. Blackstorm didn't doubt, however, that those calm waters would drown him with little hesitation. The river had no name to him but he wondered briefly if there were strangers that knew it fondly. It stretched far and long, snaking into the shadowed distance. Leon sat by the edge, eyes on the opposite bank.

"Watch."

Perplexed, Blackstorm sat beside him and squinted into the dark. The other side was only just visible, but slowly he began to pick up on a mist spilling from a thick forest. It was ice white and spreading fast, bubbling onto the river. A creaking sound echoed, and the river began to freeze solid. Something deep, _deep_ inside him snapped awake; an instinct that demanded he both stand his ground, and run away. The fur along his spine bristled with energy he'd never felt before.

Like a spider's web, the ice grew.

Blackstorm inhaled the scent of fire, and in an instant, he was elsewhere. His camp burned; vicious flames devouring everything. There was screaming all around him, such bloodcurdling, terrifying screaming that it made him yearn for his mother's safety. Beneath his paws the ground buckled and heaved, threatening to rip the dirt out from beneath his paws and plunge him into nothing. Overhead the sky howled.

A sharp gust of wind blew away the smoke, and surrounding him were his family, his friends, his Clan. Dead. Blackened by ash. Scorched by fire.

Something moved; a shape distorted by the heat and the chaos. It prowled around him, a predator taunting its prey. "Hello again," they whispered, and it was as if they'd stood beside him and spoken straight into his ear. "Old friend."

He slammed back into reality so harshly that it chased the air from his lungs. "What was that?" he gasped, heart thundering against his ribs. Never had he known such visceral terror - even Snowstep's bloody death paled in comparison. " _Leon_ , what was that!?"

"Your end."


End file.
